


Within, Without

by Owlship



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/M, Frottage, Non-Penetrative Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 12:16:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7532380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Owlship/pseuds/Owlship
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She doesn’t always want to take Max inside when they fuck. It’s certainly something she enjoys at times, likes the stretch and the closeness and the feel of him moving in ways his fingers can’t, but it’s not always something she wants. Right now Furiosa's undecided about the prospect mostly because the night before she had pushed him to be so rough that she’s pretty sure her insides are bruised, if such a thing is possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Within, Without

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the #smutty_arts challenge a few weeks ago, based on [this wonderful (nsfw) art](http://youkaiyume.tumblr.com/post/146442463573/filthy-smut-warning-a-prompt-i-drew-for-a-smut) by Youkaiyume!
> 
> [Originally posted on tumblr](http://v8roadworrier.tumblr.com/post/146470819681/i-had-plans-for-this-week-that-didnt-really-work)

She doesn’t always want to take Max inside when they fuck. It’s certainly something she enjoys at times, likes the stretch and the closeness and the feel of him moving in ways his fingers can’t, but it’s not always something she wants. Right now Furiosa's undecided about the prospect mostly because the night before she had pushed him to be so rough that she’s pretty sure her insides are bruised, if such a thing is possible

The lingering soreness doesn’t mean that she doesn’t want to be close to Max, that she doesn’t want to take advantage of very moment she can spare of his always-too-short visits to be with him. She’s not sure what room it is they’ve found- there’s sheets on a mattress but nothing personal at all stashed around, no signs that someone is actually staying in it; it might even be the guest room the girls set Max up with when he visits, just so he doesn’t feel forced between sharing or sleeping in his car.

It doesn’t really matter whose room it is. The door has a lock, and no one is looking for them, and Furiosa wastes very little time in letting herself get pressed up against the door- flimsier than it could be, but probably sturdy enough to handle this- so Max can yank her leathers down her thighs and put his mouth to good use. She’s definitely not too sore to enjoy this, moans at the feeling of his tongue swiping from deep between her folds up to the nub of her clit, spreading the wetness that’s been growing since he started sending her _looks_ , hours ago in the garage.

When he’s not trapped in his mind he knows how to tease her, a skill she’s not entirely sure where he’s picked up, but it never seems to last when he actually has her in hand, when he’s so eager that he’s all but worshiping her with his mouth, his hands, his cock.

Furiosa bucks up against his mouth, demanding wordlessly that he stop being so careful, his touches light enough to be more maddening than satisfying. She won’t break, not when it’s Max she’s letting in so close.

He makes a little humming noise and sucks hard enough against her clit that it has her gasping, flesh and metal hands both flying down to rest against his shoulders, the back of his head, wanting to keep him in place though there doesn’t seem to be much danger of him moving away.

“Use your fingers,” she encourages, though she’s not sure if that might actually be too much, if it might be something she’ll regret when her blood cools back down again.

Max hums again, deeply enough that she can feel it resonating through her. His hand moves a second later, no longer just holding the folds of her cunt open for him to work more easily but shifting to tease a fingertip against her entrance, circling around. Furiosa pushes into his touch but he nudges her back this time until her ass is pressed against the metal of the door again and she groans in frustration, has to resist the urge to pull on his hair to make her displeasure known.

He relents so far as to slide a single finger inside her, not enough to cause any discomfort even if she is bruised but enough to at least feel him rubbing and tapping against the front of her cunt. The catch of his callouses against her walls is a rough sort of pleasure that, combined with the way he keeps lapping at her clit, is enough to send her over the edge before very long. She bites back from calling out as she comes because there are only so many noises that can be overlooked when they echo down supposedly-empty hallways, and her voice shouting Max’s name isn’t one of them.

He licks her through the aftershocks and then pulls away, licking his lips and smiling crookedly at her in a way that might be called a smirk if not for the glazed-over look in his eyes, the way she can see his cock straining eager and ready against the fly of his leathers. Furiosa bends down and kisses the taste of herself off his lips, earning a low noise from him.

“There’s a bed,” she says when she slides away, already working the buckles of her arm open to undress more fully. Whose bed it might be doesn’t really matter- they can gather up the sheets to be washed when they're done- and she’s willing to trust the door’s sturdiness enough to strip down completely, wanting Max’s skin against hers.

He hums in consideration, watching her openly and making no move to do anything himself until she stops taking her clothes off, only the wrappings keeping her breasts held down and the trousers still looped around one ankle left, and gives him a pointed look. Max follows her gaze to glance down at himself and grumbles, but starts shedding his layers- less now than there used to be, just a shirt and trousers instead of jacket and vest and scarf piled on top- until they’re both naked inside the little bare room that might belong to someone or might not.

Furiosa lays back against the mattress, the unfamiliar sheets rough on her skin, and stretches herself out invitingly.

“‘m not fucking you,” Max tells her before she can say anything, kneeling alongside her and leaning down to kiss her mouth, her jaw, the divot under her ear while she crooks the elbow of her left arm around the back of his neck to pull him close. His cock’s certainly up to the task, bobbing hard and heavy between his legs, a smear of eager precum beading at the tip that she reaches out to spread around for the helpless noise he lets out.

“You could,” she says, and spreads her thighs apart as much to tempt him as to make it easier for her to touch herself.

He makes a sort of sighing half-resigned noise, and Furiosa taps him with her half-arm until he’s shuffled down the mattress to rest between her legs, but even as he reaches out with the hand not holding onto his cock to trail his fingers through the lips of her cunt again he shakes his head.

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” Max says, and while it makes part of her want to have him fuck his way inside just because she _can_ take it, because she hates when other people decide her limits for her- she knows that he means it, that he really doesn’t want to see her even just overly sore from too enthusiastic a fuck session; that it’s not because he thinks she can’t handle it but because he wants to be soft with her, wants to be considerate. It’s still a new thing for her to have but she’s learning to like it, doesn’t want to see it ground out of him because she’s stubborn and greedy.

“So don’t fuck me,” Furiosa concedes, rolling her hips up into his fingers, “Just let me feel you.”

That apparently is an agreeable enough compromise to him because he pumps his cock once or twice, as if it isn’t already hard enough, before wrapping his hand around her calf instead to take some of the strain of holding herself open off of her own muscles. He moves close enough that the head of his cock lands against the slick folds of her cunt, a press of warmth and familiarity that has her sighing in pleasure. Max groans at the contact, and it would be easy to twist and slide and have him buried inside her despite his intentions, but then his cock skates over her swollen clit just so as he tentatively rocks his hips and yes, that’s certainly something she can work with.

Furiosa brings her hand down to guide his movements to where she wants him most, glad she’s wet enough from getting off once already that it’s an effortless glide of slick skin-on-skin. He’s moving differently than he would be if he was actually fucking inside her, no twist of his hips at the end of his stroke to hit against her sensitive spots, but it’s friction and pressure and the feeling of him, hot and hard and thick and familiar, and she lets it rev herself back up.

Max’s leg slips off the mattress for better leverage and to take some strain off his bad knee, his breath coming in pants as he speeds up the pace to something that has her blood singing. She flicks her eyes away from the mesmerizing sight of the head of his cock popping in and out of view between her labia to his face, skin flushed red and lips parted in a soft tempting curve, only a thin ring of blue visible in his lidded eyes. If he would lean down she’d kiss him, would suck his tongue into her mouth and swallow all the noises he’s making, small things she doubts he’s even aware of, but he has a rhythm going and she’s loathe to disrupt it. Furiosa bites her lip instead, just enough to feel the pressure of her teeth, and adjusts the angle of her hips.

His easy cadence slips, movements becoming a little more jagged, and the way his cockhead slams solidly against her clit on what must be an accident has her moaning. But it’s the answering noise he makes, the twitching flex of his cock against her as he repeats the motion again and again, that has her coming. It’s unexpected- surely just rubbing like this shouldn’t be enough to get her off- but nevertheless pleasure unspools from inside her, slickens everything further with another rush of wetness as she cries out.

Max manages to hum out a questioning sort of noise, his gaze briefly meeting hers, and Furiosa smiles in lazy reassurance as she moves to wrap her fingers around his cock, giving him that extra bit of pressure and friction he might need, the rub of him against her cunt just starting to become too much as her climax wears itself out. It doesn’t take much longer for him to come, his own hand gripping onto her wrist like he’s afraid she’ll pull her touch away, sticky cum spurting against the skin of her belly as he moans out something that might be her name.

His hips stutter once or twice more, smearing cum everywhere as his cock finishes spilling and starts to soften, before he tilts forward to lay against her still heaving chest, getting his release all over the both of them as he presses their skin together. He’s close enough like this that she can finally kiss him like she wanted to, slow and sloppy now that they’re both coming down from the high of it but no less enjoyable as they cool down.

She rubs at his shoulder, the muscles of his arm tense as he holds his full weight off her, until he relaxes and fully collapses against her. It’s uncomfortable bordering on disgusting with the spill of cum and cooling sweat growing tacky between them, but Furiosa can’t bring herself to complain when the press lets her feel his heartbeat against her skin, his hand curving around her head to hold her close as the kiss devolves completely. She’s glad that she decided this maybe-abandoned-room was a safe enough place to undress entirely, is already grimacing internally at the thought of having to clean off just her skin and the sheets below them.

Max nuzzles into the hinge of her jaw, sweet and lax in the aftermath. “Who’s room is this?” he mumbles against her skin, and she huffs a laugh because she really has no idea.

 


End file.
